Tess was a precocious eight year old
when she heard her Mom and Dad talking about her little brother, Andrew. All she
knew was that he was very sick and they were completely out of money. They were
moving to an apartment complex next month because Daddy didn’t have the money
for the doctor's bills and our house. Only a very costly surgery could save him
now and it was looking like there was no-one to loan them the money. She heard
Daddy say to her tearful Mother with whispered desperation, “Only a miracle
can save him now.”

Tess went to her bedroom and pulled a
glass jelly jar from its hiding place in the closet. She poured all the change
out on the floor and counted it carefully, three times. The total had to
be exactly perfect, no chance here for mistakes. Carefully placing the
coins back in the jar and twisting on the cap, she slipped out the back door and
made her way 6 blocks to Rexall’s Drug Store with the big red Indian Chief
sign above the door. She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her some
attention but he was to busy at this moment. Tess twisted her feet to make a
scuffing noise. Nothing. She cleared her throat with the most disgusting sound
she could muster. No good. Finally she took a quarter from her jar and banged it
on the glass counter. That did it! “And what do you want?” the pharmacist
asked in an annoyed tone of voice. “I’m talking to my brother from Chicago
whom I haven’t seen in ages, he said without waiting for a reply to his
question. “Well, I want to talk to you about my brother,” Tess answered back
in the same annoyed tone. “He’s really, really sick... and I want to buy a
miracle.” “I beg your pardon?” said the pharmacist. “His name is Andrew
and he has something bad growing inside his head and my Daddy says only a
miracle can save him now. So how much does a miracle cost?” “We don’t sell
miracles here, little girl. I’m sorry but I can’t help you,” the
pharmacist said, softening a little.

“Listen, I have the money to pay for
it. If it isn’t enough, I will get the rest. Just tell me how much it
costs.” The pharmacist’s brother was a well dressed man. He stooped down and
asked the little girl, “What kind of a miracle does you brother need?” “I
don’t know,” Tess replied with her eyes welling up. “I just know he’s
really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation. But my Daddy can’t pay for
it, so I want to use my money. “How much do you have?” asked the man from
Chicago. “One dollar and eleven cents,” Tess answered barely audibly. “And
it’s all the money I have, but I can get some more if I need to. “Well, what
a coincidence,” smiled the man. “A dollar and eleven cents - the exact price
of a miracle for little brothers.” He took her money in one hand and with the
other hand he grasped her mitten and said “Take me to where you live. I want
to see your brother and meet your parents. Let’s see if I have the kind of
miracle you need.” That well dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, a surgeon,
specializing in neurosurgery. The operation was completed without charge and it
wasn’t long until Andrew was home again and doing well. Mom and Dad were
happily talking about the chain of events that had led them to this place.
“That surgery,” her Mom whispered “was a real miracle. I wonder how much
it would have cost?” Tess smiled. She knew exactly how much a miracle cost...
one dollar and eleven cents ...... plus the faith of a little child.

Unfortunately I do not know the source of this
story. If you know please e-mail me so that I can
acknowledge. Thanks.